


Changing the Dynamic

by Takada_Saiko



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Tessler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been a lot of changes since Liz was framed by the Cabal, but possibly the strangest one is how Donald Ressler has come to view Tom Keen. Tessler bromance. Series of one-shots set during current episodes through the near future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Tell me are the people strange?  
_

_Do they change?_

_Gamble Everything for Love,_ Ben Lee (ending song on the Director Pt1)

**Changing the Dynamic**

The hacking cough hadn't started until the night before, but it had kept him up all night long. It made focusing on what he needed to focus on nearly impossible. The way his head felt full of cotton and his nose just wouldn't stop, leaving him alternating between sneezing and coughing, put him behind the schedule he'd predicted for Cooper. At least all the footwork was done. Anything else could be researched from the tiny little apartment he had rented out when he'd finally admitted to himself that he wasn't going anywhere and that he all but worked as a contractor for the FBI. Not officially, of course, but this wasn't the first job Cooper had asked him to look into, but if he didn't pull himself together and get it done, it might be the last.

A sneeze nearly toppled him out of his chair and Jacob Phelps groaned loudly as he fell forward, his forehead thumping against the desk in front of him and the pressure deep in his ears immediately increased, making him dizzy even though he should have been fairly stable where he was. He had to pull himself together and get this done or he wouldn't have all the information by the time Cooper dropped by to get it.

Jacob jumped up suddenly at the sound of a loud knock at his front door, the room spinning dangerously as his equilibrium was thrown and he stumbled towards it, nearly finding himself with his nose pressed to the carpet. Somehow he made it though, and braced himself against the wall for a moment as he caught his breath, refusing to give into another coughing fit.

The second knock made him jump again and he glared at it, looking out the hole to see a face he wouldn't have expected. "Why do you know where I live?" he grumbled raspily as he tugged the door open.

Donald Ressler had a scowl fixed on his face. "Cooper said you had some intel for us this evening."

"Yeah, this evening, not this afternoon," Jacob snapped, turning back around and doing his best not to sway noticeably. How was he supposed to get anything done if Ressler decided to show up and interrupt him?

"It's nearly seven," the fed answered, causing Jacob to turn to look at the clock, the blurry numbers finally coming into focus as he squinted at them and he loosed a breath. When had that happened?

Ressler cleared his throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well you look like hell," the older man said bluntly, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm fine, just… under the weather a little," Jacob answered as he sniffed, finally spotting his glasses on the counter. _That's_ where he'd left them. The contacts had proven unbearable as soon as his eyes had started drying out. He set them back on his nose and shuffled back over to the computer.

"You look more than a little under the weather."

"What are you, my doctor?"

"You've got one of those?"

"No."

Ressler snorted and it might have been something like a laugh if the Boy Scout knew how to. Jacob tried to focus on the screen that was blurring dangerously even with the lenses correcting his vision. It shifted and it felt a little bit like the world was moving beneath him, threatening to topple him off the chair. The last thing he wanted was for Liz's partner to see him sick as a dog. Not that he was sick. Nope. This was just an allergy attack. That's it. He'd be fine as soon as he had some sleep, and he could do that as soon as he was done.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, steadying him, and he hadn't realized how close to toppling over he'd come. "You're burning up," Ressler murmured with a frown. "How sick are you?"

"'m not," Jacob argued. "Listen, I just need maybe an hour-"

"The world's not going to end if we don't get this in first thing in the morning. Trust me, we're working on half a dozen different threads in this case. Yours important, but not that important. Are you taking anything?"

"It makes my head fuzzy."

"Yeah, because it's not right now."

Jacob looked up from his place in his computer chair, doing his best to glare at Ressler, but the man seemed half amused and half… worried? Surely not. They had managed to get to a point that they weren't ready to shoot each other, but that hardly made him friends. Anyway, Jacob didn't have friends. He wasn't entirely sure he knew how to make real ones.

Ressler moved after a moment and Jacob heard him rummaging through his medicine cabinet. "Do you just not take anything ever?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but only a cough came out and by the end of the fit he was doubled over in the chair, holding on to the edge of the desk for support. He felt a hand straighten him out again and ease him to his feet. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going until he blinked and saw his bed come slowly into focus. "You good?" Ressler asked and he managed a nod before the shorter man helped ease him into the bed.

Jacob curled up on his side, shivering and coughing, and felt the covers come up over him. "If I tell you you should probably see a doctor-"

"I hate doctors," he managed.

"Yeah, of course you do." He heard a sigh and some movement, but he didn't dare shift to see what was happening. He needed to find a way to get up and to get back to tying the last pieces of the puzzle he'd promised to get Cooper together before he slept, but he just couldn't manage it. It was like his entire body was in full rebellion against him.

He heard Ressler grumbling from somewhere outside the room and finally he came back in and stuck a thermometer in his mouth that he wasn't even sure he remembered buying, threatening him if he spit it back out before the timer beeped off. He held it there until it made an obnoxious sound, and it was pulled away from him. "Damn," Ressler breathed and he felt his glasses leave his nose. He blinked his eyes back open, finding a blurry figure putting them on the nightstand. "Get some sleep."

Jacob tried to tell him that he had a job to do and that he'd sleep when it was finished, but he took one breath in and the cough took over. When he was done, he curled into his pillow and didn't have the energy to argue as he finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Ressler wasn't sure what he had expected in the way of living arrangements when Cooper had asked him to drop by Tom Keen's - no, he reminded himself, the man's real name was Jacob Phelps - apartment and pick up what he had of the intel they needed for the case. He hadn't expected the little one bedroom apartment that actually looked lived in. There was food in the kitchen, dishes stacked in the sink with the little dial on the washer moved over to _clean_ , and books on the table next to the small couch. There wasn't a lot, but it certainly looked like Jacob planned to stay. He'd said he would, but Ressler distrusted most everything that came out of the man's mouth as a rule.

Finding him sick had certainly been a surprise, but one that he found that he couldn't just ignore. He'd gotten him into bed and had run down the street to the corner store to buy up what he did not have in his medicine cabinets, which was just about everything.

He had gotten Jacob roused just enough to take the pills - after an argument he only understood every third or so word of because of how raspy his speech was after all the coughing - before he flopped back down into the bed and was out again. It was strange seeing him like that. He'd known the man as the dorky, bespeckled husband of his partner that had taught fourth grade, as the man that had ripped Liz's life apart, and then finally as a man that had been willing to give up everything to help her get that life back. Now he just looked miserable, curled up under thin blankets and shivering like crazy, coughing and tossing and turning. Ressler hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks and Liz didn't make a habit of talking about him unless asked. He wasn't sure if that was because the two didn't see each other often or she felt she would be judged for seeing him too much. It really could have been either. She wasn't there that night, though, and Ressler thought that he had heard she and Samar talk about a much-needed girl's night out.

Jacob hadn't roused again after Ressler had all but forced the pills down his throat and the FBI agent had meant to head home. He didn't, though, and somehow found himself on a couch that wasn't overly comfortable, being woken every twenty minutes or so to the sounds of coughing from the other room.

By the time the sun rose, he didn't even want to know if he'd had a consecutive hour's sleep. He felt draggy and somewhat thick-headed himself, but managed to haul himself off the couch and to the kitchen to search cabinets and find something he could easily put together. He was halfway through heating up the oatmeal in the microwave when he heard shuffling from the room and a moment later Jacob came trudging out. He stopped halfway to the kitchen, blinked hard, squinted as if he remembered that he'd walked out without his glasses, and frowned. "What the hell are you still doing here?" he demanded.

"Making sure you didn't die in your sleep," Ressler answered evenly.

Jacob stared at him for a long moment, as if he were trying to get a read on him, but couldn't quite get his brain to work the way it should. Finally he offered a shrug. "Please tell me you've put coffee on already."

"I couldn't find it."

"That's because you didn't look," the younger man groused, shuffling past him and to a cabinet. He pulled a plastic box out with coffee grounds in it and started shoveling it into the machine.

When the oatmeal was done Ressler handed it over and started on a second bowl. Jacob looked at the offered food like it might bite him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

He crunched his nose up in a way that made him look twelve for half a moment and then turned his gaze back on him. "Wasn't that yours?"

"And then you woke up. Looking at these dishes, you haven't actually eaten anything in… days."

Jacob followed his gaze and frowned. "I haven't felt well."

"No kidding. Eat the damn oatmeal."

He watched the dark haired man take the offered food and move over to the table to sit and eat it. The second bowl finished up and he took it out, moving to take a seat as well as the coffee finished brewing. The two men sat in silence with only the occasional half-swallowed cough to interrupt it. Ressler stood once he'd finished, went into the bathroom and got the pills he'd forced down his partner's ex-husband's throat the night before, and set them on the table. "I have things that need to get done today. Take one of these now, one at dinner. You need to eat with it. Get some rest." He didn't wait for Jacob to respond, but put the bowl in the sink and left him to it.

When he came back, it was only to check to see if he'd finished his project. Not that he could have called or anything. Her certainly wasn't going back to his apartment to check on him.

Jacob looked a little better that afternoon and he handed Ressler the file almost immediately as he entered. "Should be everything," he rasped.

Ressler nodded, took it, and then watched the other man turn and shuffle immediately back to bed, crawling under the covers and pulling them nearly fully over him. Ressler shook his head. Well, at least he wasn't dead. "You need anything?"

The younger man shook his head and curled up even deeper into his space he had made for himself.

Ressler reached over, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, and thought his fever had dropped at least a little. "Hey, there's some soup that Liz said you liked when you're sick. It's on the counter. She may drop by this evening to check on you. Stupid question, but you have my cell number, right? Will you call if you need anything?"

He heard a sound that might have been an affirmative and he shook his head. "You're more trouble than you're worth," he murmured, but his tone didn't quite match the words. He'd seen the man for so long as he'd wanted to be seen. The personas that he projected were defenses, but the more time he spent around his partner's ex-husband, the more he'd come to find that he was surprisingly reliable and strangely loyal when he chose to be. They were characteristics he would have respected in any other man, so why not Jacob Phelps?

He paused, risking one last look back. Despite everything that had happened, it looked like somehow the respect was already there. He hated to admit it, but Jacob was growing on him.

"Thanks."

He barely heard the word, but as Ressler stepped closer he found a pair of blurry blue eyes on him from where he was buried beneath everything. Liz's time on the run and the fight against the Cabal had changed the dynamic of their team and those that surrounded it so much, but he had never expected this. It might not be official yet, but the former operative was working his way closer and closer to a place on their team. Given time, Ressler thought Cooper might even make a formal offer, and wouldn't that be strange?

"For what?" he asked after a moment.

Jacob offered what might have been an intimidating glare any other time and Ressler smirked. "You're welcome."

* * *

End.

Notes: So, it was very odd getting out of my Everything Back to You-styled Tessler headspace to write this, but the idea struck and after Thursday's episode I really wanted to a bit of canon-based Tessler. I'm sure there will be more, and if there are, I may actually change this into a collection of canon-based Tessler one-shots. Would anyone be interested in that?


	2. Distractions

Notes: AlyB123 gave me the prompt of Jacob and Ress working out in the gym, so of course it turns into a boxing match. Not that these two are competitive or anything. Set between The Director part 1 and part 2. 

**Distractions**

It was late, and if he had any sense at all he would have curled up and gone to sleep the moment Cooper had come on board to give him a few hours' relief on Karakurt watch duty. Apparently Jacob didn't have any sense, because he found himself walking down the street towards a gym he knew would be open. It wasn't like he could have slept if he had tried. He needed something to take his mind off the situation for at least a few minutes.

He pushed the door to the gym open and found it deserted for the most part, which was what he had hoped for at that hour. He tossed his bag into an open shelf, pulled his wraps from it, and started tugging them loose as he made it over to a heavyweight bag.

Movement caught his attention as he started to wrap his wrists and he shifted his weight to look around and see a figure already beating on another bag a few feet away. Donald Ressler had earbuds in, and if he'd seen Jacob enter he hadn't said anything. His expression was entirely focused as he hit the bag without letting up. His motions were steady and seemed to be increasing with power with each swing.

It swung around hard and Ressler must have spotted him because he turned an irritated look on the dark haired man as he pulled the earbuds from their place. "You following me, Keen?"

"Nope. Just needed to let off some steam while Cooper's on babysitting duty. I wouldn't have pegged you for a boxer."

Ressler offered him an exasperated look. "It's pretty basic in FBI training."

Jacob quirked an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me when you and I went at on Cooper's lawn."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ressler demanded as he reached for his water bottle.

"You were all rage and no control," Jacob answered with a shrug, finishing up his wraps. He purposefully turned his back in the agent and started in on his own workout, going at it without the gloves.

"I have plenty of control," Ressler huffed.

"Okay." He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something entertaining about getting under the man's skin. It wasn't smart, he knew. They were technically allies at that moment, but Jacob couldn't resist pushing his buttons.

"What do you know about control?" the other man groused and Jacob swung around, leg connecting solidly with the bag and sent it swinging.

"Kind of a necessity in my life."

"Except when it comes to Keen." Jacob bristled a little at that and Ressler shot him a smug look. "What about another round?"

"You mean where we're not actually trying to break each other's necks? Why not? I'm guessing you want gloves?"

"I'd rather not show up to defend Liz tomorrow with a shiner. That'll at least help."

"That's fair." Jacob stopped over at the desk and grabbed a pair of spare gloves before joining his ex-wife's partner in the ring. "I don't have to ask if you've got people you trust watching her while you're here, right?"

"That would be a really stupid question," Ressler answered and took the first swing.

Jacob bobbed out of the way. "Says the man that alerted the Cabal where we were."

Ressler snorted and ducked under a blow. "I trusted the wrong person. That's not happening again."

"Good to know."

"You were a lot faster last time."

"I haven't gotten much sleep lately." Jacob ducked under a blow, rolling around so that he was behind the other man, and caught him in the gut as he turned.

Ressler coughed hard, but managed to pull back before the next one landed. "What sort of training does someone like you have?"

"Someone like me?" Jacob echoed with a smirk.

"That works for someone like the Major."

Ressler caught him with a solid blow to the jaw and he had to shake it off before he answered. "I don't work for him anymore."

Ressler quirked an eyebrow. "Do people like that just let you walk?"

"No. There's a reason I couldn't stick around once I though Liz had what she needed to clear her name. He tried to put a bullet in my head last time I saw him."

"Some boss. Remind me again why you'd work for someone like that?"

Jacob shrugged, barely missing the blow because of the motion. "He raised me."

Ressler paused at that and Jacob had to pull the punch not to slam into him and break his nose even with the glove. "What?"

"Nothing."

They didn't speak again for a few minutes, but instead exchanged blows back and forth until they were both worn down. Jacob ducked out from between the ropes and started peeling his gloves off. He was reaching for his bag when Ressler's voice stopped him.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

The FBI agent shifted where he stood. "Taking my mind off of it."

"Right back at you."

"Why are you back, Tom? I mean… I've seen the lengths you'll go now, but… Why are you sticking around with this guy after you? We could probably take it from here."

"I'm not going anywhere until I know she's safe. I love her."

"I think you must have a really warped understanding of that phrase."

"Maybe," he answered softly and shrugged his jacket on. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience with it. "But it doesn't make it untrue. I love her, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect her." He risked a glance at the other man who stood there staring at him. Liz's partner. Jacob wasn't blind. Ressler might not have admitted it to himself yet, but it was obvious how he felt about her, and sooner or later the Boy Scout would figure that out too and Liz would choose. In one corner there was the idiot that had screwed everything up and hadn't realized just what he had until she was gone, but in the other was the one-man-justice-league himself. If Jacob were honest with himself - and there were so many reasons he really didn't like to be - he worried that he'd done too much damage to repair, and that would leave Ressler to rush in to save her in the final moments. He should hate him for it. It would be easier to hate him, but he was pretty sure Liz wouldn't like that. "Keep her safe tomorrow. Cooper and I'll have Karakurt there on time."

Thankfully Ressler just nodded. "Get some sleep. You look like hell."

Jacob smirked. "Not as bad as you. Night." He turned and started back towards the docks. He might get a solid three hours' sleep if he tried. It'd be better than nothing, and he needed to be at his best the next day. It was going to take all of them to protect Liz.


	3. Loving Her

**Loving Her**

It had started as a casual drink between them and had somehow gone from there. Liz had needed a breather from the aftermath of everything - a new apartment, consulting for the task force, trying to figure out where she was and if she could pick the pieces of her life back up to fit them back into some symbolance of a whole - and Jacob had been more than happy to provide that for her. It had started to rain while they were in the bar and she had gotten it in her head that they needed to walk through it.

Jacob felt a smile that just wouldn't stop taking hold as he paid their tab and had to pick up the pace to catch up with her. He was relaxed, a slight buzz easing some of his own stress away, and Liz seemed to be just a little beyond that as she took off out the front door and into the rain. Her smile was brighter than he'd seen it in a long time, and he found himself standing just under the awning in front of the bar, listening to her laugh.

Without warning Liz jumped forward, grabbed him by the wrist, and pulled him out into the rain with her. "Come on. You used to love walking in the rain."

"Still do," he answered with a grin of his own, following her down towards the street. "It just kind of washes everything away. It's nice."

Liz looped an arm through his and leaned into him as they walked. "This was nice. I had fun."

"Me too."

"No bad guys, no case. It was just… normal."

"I do miss normal," he answered.

"Really? It's not boring?" She looked up at him, a teasing sort of glint in her eyes that he hadn't seen in some time. "You have to be honest, remember."

"Are you drunk?" Jacob chuckled.

"Not so much that I don't know when you're evading," his ex wife told him certainly and he shook his head, revelling in the feeling of her next to him, her arm through his, and her fingers curled around so that they were loosely clutching the sleeve of his shirt.

"Boring is nice after everything," he answered honestly. "It's…. a chance to breathe, I guess. I think I'm about done with getting shot at and stabbed and whatever else people that don't like me want to do."

She gave a soft laugh and stopped, pulling him to a stop as well. She was looking up at him, her nose wrinkling a little with the rain hitting her face, and she was studying him carefully. He let her, doing his best to keep his expression open and as honest as he knew how, and before he knew it she had tipped up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I've missed this."

"Me too." He had been so careful not to cross the line. He didn't want to push her. This needed to be her decision all the way or she would backtrack at the first sign of trouble. He knew her, and he knew it was true, but even as he reminded himself of that - repeating it over and over again in his mind like a mantra - her fingers touched the side of his face and he felt his eyes slip closed, leaning in.

"Keen?"

And all at once the moment was shattered. Jacob turned sharply, lobbing his best and meanest glare towards his ex wife's former partner and doing his best to ignore the way her expression lit. "Ressler!" She let go of Jacob and her grin didn't fade. "What are you doing here?"

Donald Ressler stood with his umbrella up and a disapproving look etched into his face like it might never leave. In his hand was a bag, a few groceries peeking out over the top. "There's a store I like a few blocks that way. It has those treats that Hudson liked so well. I thought I'd pick a few up for next time you needed me to watch him."

"Thanks. He'll need to come visit soon. I think he misses you."

"It's been quiet without him. Do you, uh, need my umbrella? You're soaked."

"I wanted to walk in the rain," she told him matter of factly.

Ressler glanced past her to Jacob. "You guys been out drinking?" he asked carefully, and Jacob couldn't help but think that somehow he was getting the blame for her tipsiness.

"Liz needed a break from all the unpacking, so we thought we'd go for some drinks," he said easily, offering a nonchalant shrug.

The agent snorted and Jacob rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Is that a crime now?"

"You should come next time, Ress," Liz offered.

"Thanks, but I don't think I want to encourage _this_ ," Ressler answered, motioning between them.

He shouldn't let him get under his skin, but as much as Jacob liked to push Ressler's buttons, the older man seemed to manage to do the same to him easily enough. "I didn't know we needed your permission."

"No one said that you did. Liz knows I think you're a bad idea in general, but hey, no one asked me."

"Well, at least she knows where _I_ stand," Jacob snapped, the alcohol loosening his tongue just enough to be troublesome.

"Excuse me?"

Jacob squared his shoulders, but felt Liz's hand on his arm. "Stop," she said quietly, the lightness in her voice gone now. "Tom - _Jacob_ \- please don't. You two have been doing so good. Don't start this tonight, please."

Every muscle remained tense as the two men glared at each other and finally Liz snorted. "Fine. You know what, when you two decide to start acting your ages, let me know, huh?" She turned and stormed off, every bit of playfulness washing away and leaving the barriers that Jacob had been so happy were coming down. They were back, thanks to Boy Scout. Somehow the man always knew just how to get on his nerves.

Ressler snorted, drawing his attention directly to him. "You really are something."

"Me?" Jacob growled. "Are you _serious_?"

"I don't know what you think you know about me, but this is all your doing. You can't push the blame off on me."

"Of course not, because you've _never_ done anything that's gotten Liz in trouble."

Ressler bristled at the insinuation. "I did the best I could with the information I had," he snapped, taking an aggressive step forward.

"Right, I forget, you're the perfect little Boy Scout. Everything you do or touch is golden. Sorry about that."

"At least I didn't lie to her-"

"Bullshit!" Jacob snapped, giving the federal agent a rough shove. "What the hell do you think you're doing right now?"

Ressler dropped the bag and his umbrella as if he were readying himself for a fight in the street. "You don't know-"

"I know more than you're willing to admit. I see the way you look at her. I'm not stupid and neither is she. You're her best friend, and until you man up and say something to her, she'll never be able to make a choice."

"Choice?" Ressler echoed, blinking hard in the rain.

"You really are a selfish bastard, aren't you?" Jacob growled, shaking his head and running a hand through his dark hair. "You know what? You're not worth it." Liz was upset and angry, and he needed to focus on her, not his own irritations with her partner. She needed him in whatever capacity she'd let him be there for her. He'd failed her too many times, had not been there too many times, and _this_ time, he wasn't going to screw it up.

He turned his back on the gawking agent and started down the road the Liz had stormed off just a few moments before. He hadn't gotten more than a few yards away and was passing the corner of a shop on the side of the road when he heard a small voice, almost lost to the rain. "Tom?"

Jacob stopped dead in his tracks and turned. She was standing in the rain, her eyes a little bloodshot and he could see the tears mixing in with the water from the sky. Her brows drew together in the way that they did when she was trying so very, very hard to hold herself together, and he stepped forward and reached a hand out to her, the offer there.

Liz pushed off the wall and latched onto him, her arms around his middle and her face pressed against his chest. They stood in the rain like that, his arms around her protectively and he stroked her wet hair. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. I heard," she admitted, her voice breaking. "You know."

"Of course I know," he answered after a moment, his own voice wavering a little.

"Do you hate me?"

"Never." He chewed a little on his bottom lip, weighing his question before finally risking it. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know," she answered, her voice a little raw with the honesty. "I… care about him. A lot."

Jacob nodded slowly and he had never known something could hurt like this. He should have. It had felt like daggers the day that he realized that he'd lost her. This, though, after fighting so hard and having that glimmer of hope grow… this was almost unbearable. He released her carefully and offered a tight smile. "It's okay. I know… I know what I am, Liz. I know what I've done, and I don't blame you. You deserve to be happy. I won't get in your way."

She stared at him for a moment before the tears started falling again. "You idiot. I care about you too. That's… That's the problem."

Dark blue eyes blinked hard. "I don't…"

She reached up, her fingers against his chin in an old and familiar gesture between them. "I care about you both. I may even love you both. I don't know. So much has happened and I don't feel like I've had a chance to really wrap my mind around one thing before the next terrible thing piles in on top of it. This is… this is the first chance I've had since Reddington showed up at the Post Office to actually _try_ to sort through it without feeling like I might drown under it all. I know it's not fair, but… but I don't know how it's going to end, but I don't want you to go. I just can't promise you anything."

Jacob closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. "I don't know what it's like to love more than one person, Lizzie. Until you, I didn't know what it was like to love one. I thought… it seemed really far fetched, you know? That idea that you could give everything for someone else. I didn't understand it until you, and even then I didn't get it right. I'm trying, babe." The nickname that he hadn't used in well over a year now left his lips barely in a whisper. "I'm trying to love you the way you deserve."

She tried for a smile and he saw her gaze flicker behind him. He turned slowly, already knowing who must have been standing there, and Ressler was drenched by then, his umbrella and the groceries forgotten. He looked a little lost, like he knew he should follow her but had no idea what to say when he got there.

"Jacob, I've got to-"

"I know," he said softly, offering a weak excuse for a smile.

"You're not going to just… disappear, are you?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," he promised. "I won't go until you tell me to. Just… if you know-"

"You'll be one of the first to know."

He nodded and stepped around her, risking one last glance behind him as she moved towards Ressler.

* * *

Jacob had always known that it was a possibility. He had known that Ressler had feelings for Liz. It was blatantly obvious to everyone but the Boy Scout himself, and he knew his wife - _ex_ wife - well enough to know she cared deeply for him as well. The fact that she wasn't sure which one she cared about more wasn't reassuring. Just as he'd said, Jacob knew what he was.

He was a killer. A criminal. An amoral person at his very best. It didn't matter that he was trying to change. It could very easily be too little, too late. Liz deserved the best of everything, and when you put Jacob Phelps - the street punk that had grown into a trained operative that could snap a man's neck without flinching - next to the likely decorated one-man-justice league that was Donald Ressler… Jacob wasn't a fool. In love. Desperately, painfully in love, but not a fool.

Sluggishly he motioned to the bartender to refill his glass and he leaned forward, exhausted beyond reason. He prefered an enemy he could box with, but this was something he had no experience with. He had spent his youngest years trying desperately to match what people expected him to feel, the majority of the years after just playing the part, but here and now, he knew what they meant by heartbreak, and he didn't even know for sure he'd lost her again. Just the thought was enough to break him to pieces.

"I'll have what he's having."

Dark blue eyes slid to the right and he saw Donald Ressler settle on the bench next to him. "Can't you just leave me in peace?"

"You found some of that? At least one of us did," the agent groused and the bartender pushed his whiskey across the bar. "Thanks."

"You and Liz talk?"

"Yeah. It sucks."

Jacob blinked hard, wondering if he was further gone than he'd realized. "What?"

Ressler quirked an eyebrow. "I've been…. I guess I've known for a while about Liz. Maybe not to the extent, but on some level I knew. I couldn't say anything when she was my partner, so I ignored it. Then she went on the run and it was my duty, my _job-_ " he gave a mirthless chuckle, neither man missing the irony of that- "to bring her in. We haven't even figured out what our new normal is yet."

"If you're expecting me to comfort you, you need to find another barstool," Jacob groused.

The other man snorted. "Liz told me what you did. What you said. I wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't."

"About what?"

He paused, and Jacob watched his gaze focus in on something small on the bar. "Being willing to walk like that. You know, I thought I had you figured out for the longest time, but each time that I think I do something else happens. I would have thought that'd you'd try to talk her out of it, manipulate her, anything. That's what you do, isn't it?"

"She deserves better than that," Jacob said quietly.

"See, that's what I mean. I keep looking for the angle." Ressler tilted his drink back, taking a long sip. "The more I'm around you, though, the more I'm worried you're actually being straight about this. I don't know if that means you've fooled me too or…"

"What's your point, Ressler?" the younger man snapped. "Because unless you have one, I'd really like to wallow for a little while. I don't do it often, but when I do I like to do it alone, and not with the man that's in love with my wife."

"Ex wife. She's your…." Ressler shook his head, a short laugh escaping him and he sighed. "We're both in the love with the same woman and she doesn't know which one of us she wants to be with. My point is that it sucks and I really miss the days when it was simple and I could just hate you."

Jacob tilted his head a little, studying him. "So what?"

"Nothing. It's her call. She's a big girl. She'll make whatever decision is best for her, I guess."

"I guess she will," Jacob murmured softly, his gaze focused on the amber liquid in his glass.

"For what it's worth, though, I think you may not be as bad as I thought you were."

That caused him to look up, a little started by the admission. After a moment, he shook his head. "Yeah, you either."

"What's the world coming to?"

Jacob's lips turned up just a little and he held his glass up. "It hurts like hell, but loving her's worth it. That's one of the few truths I know for sure."

Ressler clinked his own glass to Jacob's. "I'll agree with you on that." He sipped on his drink. "When did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you loved her."

Jacob smiled, the memory playing across his mind. "That first night that we talked. I mean really talked. It wasn't a lot different than tonight. We had a few beers, we laughed, and she complained about her boyfriend. I wasn't even supposed to be that close, but every word she said drew me in a little more. I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to. I just… wanted to know her."

Ressler nodded. "I don't know if there was just one moment for me. It was… a string of them. She was there in a way that no one else was. I don't know when she went from being my partner to my friend to… more, but she did. I'm not sure I even admitted it to myself until tonight."

The dark haired man nodded, letting the words sink it. It was strange, but even with the knowledge that the other man was in love with her, somehow he couldn't quite hate him. He didn't want Liz to choose him, of course, but it seemed like the more time he spent around him, the more he got to know him, the less he wanted to throttle him. He would have thought it would have been the direct opposite, but somehow, despite everything, he was developing a sense of respect for the other man and, unless he had somehow lost his knack for reading people, the thought that he might have somehow earned some in return.

"What's your real name, anyway?"

Jacob looked over, a little startled by the question. Ressler shot him an expectant look. "What? You think I really believe that your real name is Tom? Have I heard Liz call you Jacob?"

"Yeah," he said after a moment of hesitation, indecision making him pause just a half a beat more. "Jacob Phelps."

"I never thought you looked like a Tom," Ressler said certainly and gave him a smirk. "Anyone call you Jake?"

"No."

"No one? You have something against it?"

"Not really. No one ever has."

Ressler nodded. "You look more like a Jake than a Tom."

They talked well into the night, swapping stories of everything under the sun, from their time with the woman that they both cared for to pieces of personal history. It was strange, but in a way it helped. Thinking of Liz happy and whole left Jacob feeling a little more solid, a little less like the world could shift at any moment. He wasn't going to give up his fight for her, but at least he knew, no matter what she chose to do, she would be safe.

* * *

Notes: So I started in writing on a cute, fun Tessler piece yesterday that was requested about Jacob and Ress helping Liz move into her new place. I will finish that, but this one took hold and wouldn't let go. Apparently my brain decided to go to the sad place for both of our boys last night, and Liz too, honestly. I really need the love triangle to go in this general direction if they go there, which I'm pretty sure they will. If the writers read fanfiction, please guys? Yelling and shoving fits are great for them, and then begrudging getting-to-know-you-so-that-I'll-know-she's-safe-if-she-chooses-you after.

Excuse me as I curl up and with my box of Kleenexes. I will attempt not to write quite as many depressing one-shots. The Tessler ones should be much lighter in nature for the most part. This one just wouldn't quiet down.


End file.
